When One Door Opens (10 page)

Foster raised her sculpted eyebrows. “Afraid Caleb will go tattling to his uncle if you don’t walk him home?”

Logan didn’t respond, letting her think what she wanted. “Being nice” was a hell of a lot easier if he kept his mouth shut.

When he didn’t rise to the bait, she continued with an aggrieved huff. “It shouldn’t take you more than ten minutes to get Caleb home and come back,” she said, making Logan wonder how the hell she knew that. With a flip of her too-red hair she continued, “I’ll get us a booth at Buck’s across the street.”

“Fine. I’ll see you soon,” Logan said, making his way back to Caleb.

Caleb had his arms wrapped around himself so tightly it reminded Logan uncomfortably of a straightjacket. Surprisingly, the fear in his eyes seemed to be directed at Foster and not the swarms of people shoving past him. Logan hailed a cab, holding the door open for Caleb to climb inside. Scooting over the seat, he placed the box of groceries near the door so he could be closer to Caleb.

After giving the cabbie the address, Logan turned toward Caleb. He wanted to pepper the man with questions about Foster. What was her problem with Caleb? Why did she know so much about her boss’s nephew? But Caleb looked like he needed a distraction, not an interrogation. The whites of his green eyes showed all around, and his breathing sounded painful.

Leaning over close to Caleb’s ear, Logan said, “If you don’t stop breathing like a porn star, I’m going to be forced to molest you.” He put his hand on Caleb’s knee and gave it a squeeze.

Caleb made a sound between a hiccup and a laugh. “Your hand on my leg isn’t going to slow my racing heart.”

“Hmm. Then I’ll just have to move it somewhere else.” Logan trailed a finger up the length of Caleb’s thigh, sliding over the too-thin cotton pants. “Is this better?”

The blare of a car horn startled them both. Far too soon, they arrived at Caleb’s building. Logan jumped out of the cab before Caleb could protest. He heard Caleb ask the driver to wait.

Frowning, Logan said, “I have time to walk back.”

“This way she’ll be more sober when you get there.”

Logan couldn’t argue with that logic.

The four flights flew by with Caleb’s ass in the tight sweats as a motivator. When Caleb unlocked his door, Logan dropped the box and turned Caleb around, pinning him against the scarred wood.

Caleb gasped, no doubt feeling how much Logan had enjoyed the view. Instead of pulling away, he shifted his stance, allowing Logan to press their bodies closer. Logan could feel the thumping of Caleb’s heart and it sent a thrill racing through him to know it was caused by desire and not fear.

“You did good today.” Logan kissed Caleb’s forehead. “How about I come back after I’m done talking with Foster?” The mention of his supervisor caused a worry line to form between Caleb’s brows, so Logan kissed there too. “Don’t worry about her. I can handle her.”

Caleb didn’t argue, but he didn’t look particularly reassured. Placing his hands on Logan’s chest, Caleb slid down slowly, brushing against clenching muscles until Logan needed to step back to make room. Caleb grabbed the box and smiled up at Logan from his knees. Logan had thought he was hard before. For a moment, he feared he’d swoon like a Hollywood starlet.

Caleb took advantage of his distraction to stand and open the door. Over his shoulder he said, “You can help me prepare the hagfish when you get back.”

The walk back down the stairs was a lot less fun.

T
HE
bar Foster chose looked like the kind of dive Logan used to love. Still loved, if he was feeling the need to be honest. Dark wood furniture, dim enough lights to hide the grime, the heady combination of spilled liquor and old smoke that lingered years after the smoking ban went into effect. Not many customers occupied the bar, but it wasn’t surprising for ten o’clock in the morning. He resisted the urge to look around surreptitiously, half-convinced Dabb would pop up and call him a parole violator. Even though he had no plans to get smashed, his parole agreement was clear: “no visiting bars or lounges where intoxicants are sold.” He’d agreed to Foster’s choice of location without thinking about it, too concerned about getting Caleb safely home. Hopefully, he could get this meeting with Foster over quickly.

Seeing Logan, the bartender asked, “What can I get for you?”

“Rum and Coke,” Logan said, reflexively. He swore under his breath. “I mean just a Coke. Uh… with no booze.”

“Coming right up.”

Logan spotted Foster at the back of the bar. Registering the predatory look on her face, he picked up his Coke and joined her at a small, wooden table.

Petting his hand, Foster said, “I’m so glad you could come,” as if she hadn’t coerced him into it.

“What’s up, Karen?”

She seemed absurdly pleased he’d relented and called her by her first name. Or maybe the mood was due to the empty glass in front of her. Margarita, going by the salt rim. Breakfast of champions. She signaled the bartender. “Give me another with extra cherries.” She looked at Logan, silently asking, and he shook his head.

“Since I know you worked construction,” she said, slurring her words slightly, “I was hoping you could give me some advice on my kitchen redo.”

It took all his concentration not to roll his eyes at the transparent pretext. He’d much rather be eating that mutant worm than listening to Foster prattle about her home remodel woes while she sucked back a margarita like a Hoover vacuum. He’d worked enough residential remodels to know indecisive homeowner syndrome when he heard it. There was nothing worse than a vague client who got pissed off when the contractor didn’t read their mind. They’d demand changes and then bitch and moan when it added cost and time to complete the job. From the sound of things, Foster was looking for an excuse to skip out on the bill.

Foster cut off mid rant. Either she was more perceptive than he gave her credit for or his neutral expression needed work. “I saw your PO heading for Klass’s office as I was leaving today.” She licked salt off her upper lip. “Is he tryin’ for PO of the year or somethin’?”

“What do you mean?”

“I talked to him last Monday right before my shift ended and today he’s back.”

Logan remembered seeing her at Meng’s.
You went
running for a bottle of tequila after talking to Dabb
. He doubted it was a coincidence.

“When my good for nothin’ boyfriend was on parole, his PO showed up like three times in a year.”

Dabb struck Logan as the type of man who took his job very seriously. But there was no way he had time to visit all his parolees’ work places twice in two weeks.
So why is he paying me so much attention?
“Dabb visited Caleb this week, so maybe Klass is last on the list.”

Caleb had said that the meeting had gone okay, but he’d been vague on the details. Maybe Dabb was trying to convince Klass to find someone else to look out for Caleb. His throat suddenly dry, Logan took a sip of the watered-down Coke.

She sucked her teeth. “I should’ve realized Klass had roped you into doing Marco’s old job.” She gave him a grin that was supposed to be seductive but looked more like she needed a bran muffin. “He always selects hot guys to dangle in front of his nephew.”

That Klass picked him based on his looks still chafed his ass.
I’ll bet old Harry didn’t count on me wanting Caleb back.
As much as he’d like to see the look on Klass’s face, he didn’t relish being unemployed. No way would his boss want him anywhere near his nephew if he knew. Was that what worried Caleb? That Foster would out him to Klass?

“Caleb is a good guy. What do you have against him?”

She shook her head slowly. “Poor Marco ran all the way to Florida to get away.” An ugly, sour look crossed her face. “But that was better than lettin’ the boss’s pervert nephew paw at him anymore,” she said, with no small amount of disgust.

Logan hadn’t realized how angry he was until he saw her disgust morph into panic. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on the emotion slamming through his system. By the time he’d opened his eyes, she was offering excuses and scurrying out of the bar, and his rage was dissipating with each step she took.
Huh, maybe those anger management classes are working.
He hadn’t bashed in her lying face with his watered-downed glass of soda pop, so that had to count for something.

Chapter 4

C
ALEB
set the box on the counter and started putting away the groceries. Seeing a small brown bag buried at the bottom of the box, he felt his cheeks flush even though there was no one to see it. He had added a tube of lube to his order, since he was nearly out. He had contemplated ordering it online instead before dismissing the idea. Even with planned purchases, he sometimes wasn’t able to answer the door.
God help me if the lube was delivered to Mrs. Simon when I didn’t answer the door.
He would never survive that kind of humiliation. She would take one look at his face and
know
he had something dirty in the package. He opened the paper bag and dumped the contents on the counter. It took his brain a few seconds to process what he was staring at. Condoms. Min had stuck a box of condoms in with the lubricant. He had assured Min that he wasn’t dating Logan when they were in the store. Just two guys helping each other out and maybe getting to be friends. Apparently, she wanted him to be prepared just in case. The fresh flush of embarrassment made him remember the first time he had gotten condoms. It was the morning of prom….

A knock on his bedroom door had woken him. Rubbing sleep from his eyes he asked, “What do you need, Mom?” He was surprised when Uncle Harrison opened the door. Yanking back the covers, he asked, “Has something happened—”

“Your mom is fine,” his uncle said, closing the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but I need to go into work today and I wanted to see you before the dance.” His uncle brought the desk chair over and sat in front of the bed. He was red-faced and jittery, looking at the walls as if he’d never seen the shrine to Kerry Wood, Gracie, and the Cubs.

Feeling self-conscious in only boxers, Caleb rose and threw on a T-shirt and sweats. It wasn’t unusual for his uncle to stop by, but it was obvious something was up. Out of habit, Caleb quickly made the bed and sat cross-legged in the middle, wishing he had another chair.

Finally looking at him, his uncle said, “I know prom is a big deal nowadays.”

Caleb took a deep breath and prepared himself for the “I’m sorry” that was sure to follow. His mother had been giving him wide-eyed looks since he’d told her that Melissa had agreed to go to the dance with him. She was probably panicked they would end up killed by a drunk driver. Surely, she knew he’d never risk upsetting her by getting drunk. His uncle must be here to let him down gently. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He really didn’t mind for himself, but Melissa would be devastated even though they were only going as friends.

“I should’ve given you these years ago, but you’ve always been a quiet kid and never showed much interest in dating.” His uncle handed him a plastic grocery bag.

Confused, Caleb opened the bag and found a box of condoms. His jaw dropped and he felt his face flush. Before he could think of a response, his uncle continued. “I’m not saying anything will or should happen tonight, but I wanted you to have them, just in case.”

“We’re just friends,” Caleb stammered.

“Like I said, just in case. I know how embarrassed I was the first time I bought them and you being so shy, I didn’t want you to take the risk of not having them.” He shook his head. “God knows it would kill your mother if you knocked someone up.”

“I’m gay.” The words were unplanned and irretrievable once uttered. He held his breath, waiting for his uncle’s reaction. He knew his uncle was a fair man and didn’t tolerate prejudice at home or at work. But tolerance was a long way from acceptance.

“You can’t tell her.” Uncle Harrison’s voice teetered on the edge of panic. He paused and took a long, slow breath. “What with AIDS and homophobes she just couldn’t handle it. She’d be too afraid for you.” He ran a hand through his prematurely white hair. “I’ve tried to look out for you and your mom since that good-for-nothing boyfriend walked out on you both.”

Lips pressed together, Caleb closed his eyes for a moment, willing tears not to fall. “You have,” he breathed, hardly managing to form the words.

“I’m proud of you, boy, and knowing you’re… gay won’t change that. You can talk to me about it whenever you need to.” He put his hand on Caleb’s knee. “We just need to keep it between us for now. We’ll work on easing your mom into the idea when you’re older….”

Drawing back from the memory, Caleb felt a pang of regret that his mom died without really knowing him. Looking back, he understood his uncle’s fears, but they didn’t hold the same weight as when he was sixteen. His mom would have worried, but she also would have wanted him to be happy. Hiding his life from her became a habit he was never able to break. The ring of the telephone brought him back from his thoughts. Seeing Marco’s name flash on the caller ID, Caleb sighed before answering the phone.